


The Augus and Ash Interludes

by not_poignant



Series: Fae Tales - AUs, Oneshots and More [12]
Category: Fae Tales - not_poignant, Original Work
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Fae Culture, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Mythology - Freeform, Non-Linear Narrative, Prequel, fae, waterhorses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/pseuds/not_poignant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of interludes that focus on Augus Each Uisge and Ash Glashtyn (fae waterhorse brothers) before the events that sent Augus on his downward spiral. These are AU moments focusing on their affection for one another, and work more as a character study, than a linear story. Enjoy them as individual moments! Part of the Shadows and Light 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hangover Buddy

**Author's Note:**

> This will be moved out of the Shadows and Light series and into a new series (Shadows and Light: Fae Tales) when _Game Theory_ is launched! I wrote these to both explore the bond that Augus and Ash have for each other, and to also get a better feel for both characters. These interludes will likely not make any sense without some familiarity with _From the Darkness We Rise_ and _Into Shadows We Fall_ , or alternatively _Game Theory_ when that is launched.

Augus woke up, grass beneath him, sun warming his skin. He could hear the sound of his lake nearby, lapping gently at the bank. He smiled when he saw Ash lying next to him, one knee up and turning an electronic device over in his hands. Ash had a tendency to show up at odd times, and often Augus would wake up, or come home, and there he’d be without announcing himself.

'What technology is this?’ Augus said, looking at the device. ‘I feel I should tell you not to play with your food.'

'Oh, shut up,' Ash laughed. 'It's a cell. I went to register one in my name, but...that was complicated. In the end I just got a pre-paid. If you got a phone I could call you, sometimes. That'd be great, wouldn't it?'

'They don't look especially waterproof.'

'Lighten up, brother! Why you gotta rain on my parade? Oh, right, I remember. Older, wiser, but someone removed his sense of fun when he was tragically young. Such a shame.'

Augus glared, and Ash grinned at him.

'You're just proving my point, brother. Now, let me see if I can figure out how to turn this thing on.'

‘It needs a battery,’ Augus said, lying back down again and yawning. ‘You can figure out the world’s most complicated sex toys. You used to send telegrams. You know morse code. You can hotwire a car. This shouldn’t be a problem for you. Should it? Who are you going to call, anyway? Your _food?’_

‘Will you stop?’ Ash laughed, ‘No, I met this homeless guy, and he was actually pretty interesting. Told me about a war he’d been in. Human wars are pretty bad, because you know, they’re fragile. They die easily.’

‘Yes, _we know,_ because _we eat them.’_

‘And he was telling me about how he used to believe in the Fair Folk, when he was younger. Comes from Wales. He’s heard of you! Not me though.’

Augus pushed himself upright and stared at Ash, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘Ash, are you telling me that you got a phone, because he’s a _fan?’_

‘No,’ Ash said evasively, which lasted a whole two seconds, before his face split into a grin. ‘A little. He’s heard of you!’

‘From books,’ Augus said, dismissive, waving a hand in the air. ‘They’re not remotely accurate. Worse than tabloids.’

‘See, now, I came to visit because I thought this might be enjoyable,’ Ash said, reproving, ‘I thought, hey, I’ll get this homeless guy to speak with the dreaded Each Uisge, and then I’ll laugh a little, because you get this look on your face when you have to talk to your f-’

Augus reached over and poked Ash in one of the pressure points in his ribs and glared. Ash jerked away, mock-glared back, then pushed Augus with his hand.

‘Play along, or I’ll hit you.’

Augus sat up properly and looked at the phone, a sour expression on his face. Time to play along, Ash almost always won when it got physical. He watched Ash peer at the phone and frowned.

‘You’re not doing it right, give it to me.’

‘No, you always do this,’ Ash said, ‘and who _doesn’t_ know morse code? Or how to send telegrams? Bugger off.’

‘Do you even _have_ a battery for it?’

‘And I visited because why?’ Ash said, rolling his eyes and nudging Augus with his shoulder. ‘Did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or the wrong side of the _century?’_

‘I don’t want to talk to a _vagrant,’_ Augus said. ‘Whether human or fae.’

‘We used to be vagrants,’ Ash said, smiling. ‘Well, sort of. Fae vagrants. Underfae counts. You should be nicer. I know there’s nice in there somewhere. Deep down. In some hollow, dusty place where you can place your ear and hear the goddamned ocean.’

‘ _Nicer,’_ Augus said, flat.

‘Yeah, _nicer._ People give you things when you’re nice to them.’

‘If you’re referring to all the women and men who buy you drinks, they don’t want you to be nice to them. They want you to fuck them six ways from Sunday.’

‘But they also buy me shit because I’m nice to them!’

Augus stared at him incredulous, and then started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. Ash followed suit a few seconds later.

‘Okay, maybe because they want me to fuck them six ways from Sunday.’

Augus reached out and snatched the phone off Ash while he wasn’t paying close attention. He turned it over and opened the back, saw that it had a fresh battery already. He took it out while Ash watched him curiously, and then flung it away from them both as hard as he could. Ash looked at the battery sailing off into the woods, his mouth slightly open. It landed in dense understorey.

‘That’s a pretty  good throw you’ve got there, asshole,’ Ash said, and Augus handed the phone back.

‘I fixed it for you.’

‘This cost me actual money,’ Ash said.

‘Because the whisky you buy is so cheap,’ Augus said, ‘How about you just _pretend_ you’re a homeless human, and you can tell me about how you’ve heard of me. I’m going back to sleep. It’s been a lovely day. Don’t spoil it.’

Augus lay down and yawned, sun-warmed and damp, his pond nearby and Ash next to him; clean and fresh despite the vague hint of alcohol hanging around his breath. He’d obviously been out the night before.

‘When was the last time you fed?’ Augus said. Ash crawled closer and picked up some stray strands of Augus’ hair up in his fingers. Augus looked up at him and waited for a response. Ash was often cagey on the matters of how often he ate. Even now, Ash looked at him sidelong and shook his head in exasperation.

‘A month.’

‘You leave it too long, still. A month. You’re delirious with hunger. No wonder you’re exchanging stories with vagrants.’

‘You would’ve liked him,’ Ash said, persistent, ignoring Augus’ remonstrations to eat as he always did.

‘He was scared of you!’ Ash added. ‘‘Oh that Each Uisge, terrifying!’ It was great. You would have loved it. I didn’t even have the heart to tell him that you wouldn’t be interested in eating him, because he was a functional alcoholic.’

‘Oh, so, one of your brethren?’ Augus said, then couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face as Ash started plaiting a section of his hair. Ash hadn’t worn his hair long for thousands of years, and wore it unusually short for a waterhorse, which lent him an unusual appearance when he transformed into his horse-form. But Ash still understood a waterhorse’s attraction to hair, and he used to fuss over Augus’ whenever he was stressed. It had started when they were both very little, and he’d never grown out of it.

Ash snorted under his breath.

‘What?’ Augus asked.

‘I’m just thinking,’ he said.

‘Don’t tax yourself,’ Augus said, and then tilted his head to give his brother easier access to his hair.

‘I’m just thinking that you’re still ticklish, right?’

Augus lurched upright just as Ash stretched over him, digging his fingers into Augus’ ribs and pre-empting Augus’ laughter with his own mischievous chuckling. Augus thinned his lips, struggled, but Ash was experienced in wrestling and managed to avoid Augus’ fingers as they sought out pressure points to disarm him.

‘Laugh, brother!’ Ash taunted, and Augus kicked up at him, indignant. ‘Ha, no, that’s not what I said. Laugh!’

‘Get _off!’_ Augus tried kicking again and struggled harder when the first burst of laughter spilled forth, a current of unwanted sound.

‘It’s just like tuning a radio station. I just need to find the right frequency,’ Ash gloated, and Augus thumped his brother on the back as hard as he could, but it was no use.

Augus was laughing.

Ash laughed too, as he always did when he was tickling Augus. It was as though he was tickling himself. Augus snarled at him, and then tried to roll away when something dangerous like giggling came from his own mouth.

‘Oh, the _scariest_ Each Uisge that ever roamed the earth! Watch out everyone!’

‘I will murder you!’

‘Shit! Empty threats!’ Ash refused to let up.

Augus grit his teeth together and slammed his hands down onto the ground, pulling up a form of magic that he almost never used. It required too much effort, and it scared most other fae when they knew he could do it. He was reputed to be one of the most powerful waterhorses in existence for a reason

In a matter of seconds he turned the ground beneath them into a deep well of water, and they both fell in with a splash. Ash was disoriented, still laughing even underwater. Augus kicked himself away and Augus quickly pulled himself out and back onto land. A moment later, Ash joined him, pulling himself up out of the pool and still laughing, shaking water out of his hair.

‘I still don’t know how to do that,’ Ash said. ‘You said I might learn it, given enough time. But I don’t know. I think it’s just a you thing.’

‘I clearly had to learn it as a matter of self-defence, didn’t I?’ Augus said, but there was no bite to his words. He sat down again, staring at the new pool of water by his own pond. He could close the earth over the well of water later.

‘I hope you always hate being tickled, because it makes it so much more fun for me,’ Ash shook water off his shirt, and the droplets simply fell away, leaving the fabric mostly dry again.

‘Maybe if you ate more frequently, you’d learn how to do _that_ ,’ Augus said, pointing at the pool, and Ash made a face.

‘Oh no, a segue. Look, I eat plenty. And you don’t eat that much more than I do. I know you. You don’t eat more than once a fucking month either. Stop acting like you’re going out every day. You don’t. Now go and get whatever you threw into the woods. The battery.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ Augus said, and Ash pointed.

‘You’re so much better at finding those things than I am. Go get it.’

‘Ash, I’m not-’

‘Please, Augus?’ Ash said, directing a guileless smile up at Augus. ‘Go on. You’re the best, Augus. Thanks.’

‘I haven’t moved,’ Augus said, putting his hands on his hips. ‘I’m not moving. I’m not enabling this. You’re bad enough as it is. I don’t need you to put me in touch with livestock.’

‘Every time I visit, you make me feel like I’m Dr. Doolittle, because I talk to humans. I get the songs stuck in my head and everything.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Augus said, shaking water off his shirt and then sitting down. ‘And I don’t _want_ to know,’ Augus held up a hand when Ash opened his mouth to explain.

‘You liked Othello when I explained that to you.’

‘I liked _parts_ of Othello,’ Augus said, yawning.

‘I can’t believe you made a pool to get out of being tickled. You could have just _asked_ me.’

‘I recall telling you to get off.’

‘I hear that so often I forgot it had another meaning,’ Ash said, and Augus groaned.

‘Go away.’

‘Nope. I’m going to pretend to be the homeless man, and you’re going to pretend to listen to me. It’ll be great. It’ll be just like all those other times I come visit.’

Augus glared at Ash, who simply raised his eyebrows and grinned widely. Augus didn’t think Ash had actually properly stopped smiling since he’d arrived. Augus liked that a great deal. No one else enjoyed his company quite as much, which was saying something, as he’d been invited to countless soirees and other gatherings over the years, and was beloved by the Unseelie Court, and even many within the Seelie Court. But it was Ash’s ability to smile so freely around him, to not feel threatened, that Augus enjoyed. Others saw how powerful he was. Ash only saw his brother.

‘Come back over here,’ Ash said. ‘Lemme keep plaiting your hair.’

‘Oh,’ Augus said, raising an eyebrow in return. ‘Is that right? I believe that’s code for something else entirely. I’ve been tickled once today, thank you. You’ve reached your limit.’

‘I know,’ Ash said, eyes gleaming. ‘Come on. You look tired, I didn’t mean to wake you. You can fall asleep again. And then when you wake up, I’ll have found the battery that _you_ threw away, and a homeless man will be talking to you.’

‘This doesn’t actually sound as promising as you think it does.’

‘He was really, really scared of you,’ Ash said with pride. ‘Are you sure that’s not reassuring? It was fucking awesome. I mean, how often do meet someone these days who has heard of the Each Uisge who isn’t some goddamn literary major, or lives in Wales? Maybe in a past life he was like...a meal or something.’

‘Oh no, I’m not doing this with you again. We’re not talking about whether the food we eat comes back reborn again as _food_.’

Ash beckoned Augus over, and Augus resisted for a whole thirty seconds before he sighed and walked to him. Ash only tickled Augus once per visit, if he did it at all. It was an unspoken rule between them. Just like Augus had run out of opportunities to remind Ash to eat more. That was it, no more returning to either subject.

He leaned his head back on Ash’s thigh, and closed his eyes when Ash took up the plait he’d been working on earlier.

‘You need someone else to do this for you,’ Ash said quietly, as he finished the first plait and started on another.

‘No one is making you,’ Augus said.

‘Ha, that’s not what I meant. People call me dense all the time, but I tell them I have an older brother who is quality stu- _OW._ ’

Augus withdrew his fingers from where he’d pinched Ash in the arm.

‘You need to meet another nice waterhorse,’ Ash said, grinning. ‘Settle down. Have waterhorse babies.’

‘That is disgusting,’ Augus said, glaring up at Ash. ‘You’re still drunk, aren’t you? Be honest.’

‘A little,’ Ash said, winking conspiratorially. ‘Bartender kept giving me free drinks. I can’t even remember the last time I had to use my compulsion to get drinks. It’s fantastic. And then afterwards I come visit you, and you’re the best hangover buddy.’

‘Not your hangover _buddy,’_ Augus grumbled, closing his eyes. Ash tugged on his hair gently.

‘You so are. Stop pouting. You know that shit doesn’t work on me, brother.’

Augus raised a hand up as he yawned hugely, and then turned onto his side, draping his arm on Ash’s knee.

‘If I wake up to a _vagrant_ talking to me...’

Ash just laughed, and Augus smiled and let sleep steal back over him. 


	2. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ash is badly poisoned, he only knows one person to turn to who can help him in an emergency. Augus, however, gets the fright of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments / kudos / subscriptions and bookmarks. As this is listed as original fiction, and is essentially a series of disconnected character studies, it will always be fairly quietly received, and so I just really treasure every little piece of notice this series gets. Thank you.

Augus paused as he walked through the underwater dome, into his foyer. He tensed, alert, to the sound of something rummaging around in his pantry. Augus was underfae, it didn’t matter how powerful he was, a high status fae could break the dome and into his home. Augus clenched his fists and coils of waterweed twisted along them, ready. He didn’t take to interlopers lightly, he’d had to deal with them twice before.

But as he crept forwards across dry floorboards, he reabsorbed the waterweed immediately. That wasn’t an interloper. That was _Ash._

‘Brother?’ Augus called, wondering what Ash was looking for. He often dropped by and stole different species of waterweed and plant from Augus’ carefully stocked larder. Neither of them ate their prey as often as they should, for different reasons. Consequently, they grazed frequently on greens and grains, until the need for more nourishing food became imperative.

The rummaging paused. There was a shattering, as several glass jars fell to the ground. Augus winced.

‘I would like to ask the drunken fool to kindly exit my larder. You can simply tell me what you wa-’

Ash stumbled out, looking wretched. He slumped sideways into the wall and looked up weakly at Augus. His skin was pallid, his hair limp and plastered to his head. His cheeks had twinned red patches on them, he was sweating. Augus started forwards in concern, and Ash laughed thinly.

‘You know how I used to complain that you were too fussy about keeping that first aid kit of yours well-stocked? I take it back.’ His voice was a rasp.

Augus ran to reach Ash’s side just as Ash started to slide down the wall. Augus caught him underneath his arms and held him upright with a combination of one arm and his body weight. He used his other hand to tilt Ash’s head back and look into bloodshot eyes.

‘Please tell me this is just a very, very bad hangover,’ Augus said, and Ash shook his head.

‘As if, brother. I made the stupid fucking mistake of crossing the path of a were-vilen, and turns out-’

‘You were _poisoned?_ Of all the idiotic, stupid- _Don’t_ pass out.’

‘Fuck off, you try not passing out,’ Ash mumbled, eyelids fluttering.

Augus felt a flutter of panic inside of his chest. He couldn’t recall ever having seen Ash so sick, and were-vilen were natural poisoners, they couldn’t help themselves. A high enough dose could be lethal, especially to an underfae.

Augus looped Ash’s arm around his shoulders and moved him bodily towards his couch, half dragging him when it became obvious that Ash’s legs weren’t working properly. Ash mumbled something like an apology, but it was almost entirely a slur of sound. Augus made sure Ash’s head was elevated on cushions and then placed his palm over Ash’s forehead.

‘Fuck,’ Augus said, and ran back to his pantry. He growled in frustration as shards of broken glass pierced the soles of his feet, his blood oozing thick onto the ground. He reached up and pulled down a large, heavy wicker box, and then carried it awkwardly to the table, trying not to put his feet down on the floor properly, not wanting to press the glass further into his skin.

He could hear the rattle of Ash’s breathing as he pulled out herbs and distillations, tonics and tinctures. He’d been carefully crafting his first aid kit for a long time, researching and working with the local plants and trading for everything else that he wanted. Ash was _lucky._ If Augus didn’t have a natural interest in these things, he’d, he’d be...

Augus’ fingers found the small, delicate vial he’d traded for three jars of fermented quillwort and two strands of the highly sought after waterweed harvested from his own head. Inside, a dirty-looking liquid, like water skimmed off the top of a highway puddle.

He raced to Ash’s side and forgot about the glass in his feet, swearing again at the pain spiking up through his legs. He twisted the top off the vial and smelled it. It was rank, but not rancid.

‘Ash, Ash, can you hear me?’ Augus smooth his hand over Ash’s head, winced when he realised how much colder Ash had become in such a short space of time.

‘Mmph,’ Ash said in response, and Augus grimaced. _Good enough._

He lowered Ash’s jaw, and dumped the entire contents of the vial in his mouth. Normally he’d care about measuring out a dosage, but Ash looked like he’d been exposed to a lot of the poison, and Augus was desperate. He closed Ash’s mouth, watched as Ash swallowed the liquid down. Ash groaned in disgust, and Augus smoothed his hand through Ash’s hair.

‘I’m sorry, I know it’s revolting,’ Augus said, sitting on the side of the couch and tugging gently on Ash’s individual curls. ‘It should start working soon.’

Ash grunted, and Augus couldn’t tell if he was agreeing, or simply making a random sound of pain. Augus stared at his brother’s face, worriedly moving strands of limp, wet hair back from where they stuck to his skin. His own heart was beating too fast. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Ash wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable like this. He was carefree and reckless, but he never got _hurt._ Augus’ lips thinned, he placed his fingers to the pulse at Ash’s neck, and anger rocked through him.

‘You _idiot,’_ Augus hissed, ‘You _know_ they’re poisonous! Have you been so long out of the fae-world, slumming it with your food, that you’d forgotten? And we’re especially susceptible, you knew that! What if I hadn’t been here? You always take it for granted that I’m going to be here, but I do leave sometimes, Ash. I wasn’t supposed to return home so early, I...’

Augus didn’t want to finish that line of thought, and he pressed his forehead to Ash’s forehead, forcing himself to take a deep breath, to calm down. Ash had the antidote; perhaps twenty doses of the antidote, he just needed to _wait._ He had confidence in his ability to know what remedy to use in a situation like this, he only had to wait.

Minutes ticked by and Ash’s pulse grew stronger, but he was now unconscious. Augus would take the stronger pulse over consciousness any day, and he lifted one of his own feet up to start pulling pieces of glass from his foot. He dropped them, one by one, into a small pile onto the wooden coffee table by the couch. He realised belatedly that there was a small pool of blood under his feet. That bloodied footprints mapped his journey from the larder, to the table where he’d set out his healing kit, to the couch.

‘I should make you clean everything up,’ Augus muttered, and set to work on his other foot, wincing. When he was done, his feet were bleeding more freely, but they’d heal faster without the foreign objects in them. It was a minor pain. He turned his attention back to Ash.

Ash’s pulse was stronger, his body temperature warming again. Augus sighed in relief and lay his chest over Ash’s, feeling his brother’s heartbeat beneath his own. It was something he did only rarely these days, usually only when Ash was having a nightmare and wouldn’t wake up. The only thing that had helped him when they were children, was having Augus lie on top of him. Waking up and finding Augus there, a steady weight staring worriedly down, calmed Ash quickly. And Augus hoped it would work now, placing both of his hands on either side of Ash’s head, and his forehead into the space where Ash had dampened his couch with sweat and lake-water.

More time passed, and Ash’s breathing went from slow and shallow, to a deeper, more nourishing rhythm. His body temperature was almost back to its normal lukewarm, and his hair was starting to spring back up into its normal shape. Augus could smell the poison, a citrusy acridness weeping out through Ash’s pores.

‘Were-vilen poisoning,’ Ash said, voice thick. ‘Do not recommend.’

Augus tried for a mocking laugh, but he couldn’t voice a sound at all. He managed only a shudder of breath.

‘Hey,’ Ash said, shifting sluggishly. ‘Hey, Augus?’

‘Shut up,’ Augus said, ‘I vastly prefer you when you’re unconscious.’

‘Where’s the blood coming from?’ Ash said, scenting it in the air, confused.

‘Remember when you destroyed my larder, looking for the antidote to your stupidity? Which, by the way, there is no cure. Remember how you broke some items before I had to haul you to the couch? I didn’t exactly have time to clean up the glass.’

‘Could you have taken any longer to tell that damned story? You could’ve just told me you cut your feet. Christ.’ Ash groaned, a mix of frustration and pain, and started to push himself upright, but Augus refused to move.

He wanted just a little longer. Just a little more time feeling Ash’s healthy heartbeat beneath his own. He pushed his own body down and Ash slumped back to the couch.

‘Hey,’ Ash said, voice gentling. ‘Hey now. I’m fine, brother.’

‘I know,’ Augus said, and Ash paused, then rubbed Augus’ back carefully. Augus shook his head with impatience, but Ash didn’t stop. Augus admitted to himself that he didn’t want him to.

‘And I’m feeling on my way to great already, probably a sign that I didn’t get as fucked over by that thing as I thought, right?’

_That or you’re overdosing on the antidote._

‘Augus...’ Ash said, as Augus refused to move. Ash sighed and pressed his other arm around Augus, pulling him close. Augus knew he should push himself up, knew he should make some remark about how his house was a mess, but instead his body went limp and he dragged his hand through Ash’s hair.

‘You’re an idiot,’ Augus said, and Ash nodded.

‘Yep, you were always the smart one. And I was always the funny, good-looking one. We can’t all be nerds.’

‘Oh, _do_ shut up,’ Augus grumbled.

Ash laughed at him, tousled his hair, before smoothing it back into place again. He relaxed further into the couch, and Augus could tell he was tired, could feel it in the way he was breathing. He needed to sleep off the rest of the poisoning, it was amazing he’d woken up again. Augus had expected him to fall into sleep almost immediately.

‘I’ve had another invitation to the Court, actually,’ Augus said, and Ash twirled Augus’ hair around his finger.

‘Maybe you’ll get a sweet status upgrade, and you can tell all the cool kids about it.’

‘I doubt it,’ Augus said. ‘I don’t mind dropping in on Court life from time to time, but high society gets droll after a while.’

‘You hate them,’ Ash said. ‘You always have.’

‘They treat us like dirt, should I want to give them bouquets of flowers and scatter petals at their feet? Please. You’d be surprised at how they all beg the same, and so sweetly, as any other class when they ask me for my particular brand of _help._ ’

Ash sighed. This was an old argument. Ash had little to do with the fae world anymore. He spent most of his time living amongst humans, and had even acquired a human apartment. Augus could only imagine what they thought of his perpetually damp hair, or the waterweed growing out of it. Augus orbited the Unseelie Court, not because he particularly wanted to, but because his reputation was growing through quiet and discrete word of mouth. Someone who, if one handed over their trust and time, would see them through the darkness, even cause it, and bring them out to the other side.

When Augus had first started exercising his centre in this way, he hadn’t expected that one day people would begin to approach him, or that they would ask if he had a schedule, or that he would need to consider how he felt about letting high Court fae into what was his small and unassuming lake, with its tasteful but humble home.

‘You’re in a sour mood,’ Ash said.

‘You could have _died,’_ Augus snapped, pushing himself upright and glaring at him. ‘You _would_ have died! Of course I’m in a sour mood!’

He stood and then gasped, he’d forgotten all about his feet. He started to storm away, but Ash pulled him back by his shirt, unbalancing him and making him fall back onto Ash awkwardly.

‘Your feet are sore,’ Ash said, ‘Don’t do this.’

‘You-’

‘I didn’t die,’ Ash said. ‘Because you were here, and you had the antidote, and now I feel a bit rough, nothing a shower won’t sort out, but I’m good, Augus. It’s good. Hey, come back. It was nice, you leaning on me. It was helping.’

‘Perhaps you should shower,’ Augus said, ‘I can smell the poison on you.’

‘Yeah, me too. But on me, not _in_ me, so it’s fine. It can’t hurt me anymore. Come on, Augus. I didn’t mean to give you a scare.’

Augus couldn’t even tell him that he hadn’t. He’d never seen Ash so ill. He never wanted to see it again. He let himself be pulled back onto Ash’s chest.

‘I’ll tell you a story,’ Ash said, and Augus could hear the smile in his voice. ‘There was this waterhorse, right? A waterhorse with short hair and therefore a short fucking mane, who wasn’t really great at being a stupid waterhorse, which his brother always harped on about; ‘are you eating enough?’ ‘you really should eat more.’’

‘Well, you should,’ Augus said, and Ash sighed.

‘That’s a different story. Anyway, so this waterhorse, he had a hankering for some fae-brewed whisky. You know, the Wry Medley stuff that isn’t actually a blended whisky at all, so god knows why it’s called Wry Medley. But good old Pete, he won’t sell me any, because I’m too low class for his whisky even if I _can_ afford it. So you know, what an asshole. But damn he brews some good fucking whisky. It’s just...it’s _good._ And so-’

‘If this story ends with you getting poisoned by a were-vilen because you were trying to break into a fae whisky distillery, I will gut you with my bare hands.’

Ash cleared his throat.

‘It actually ends with you putting everything to rights and...letting me take a look at your feet.’

‘I’ve gotten the glass out already. While you were unconscious.’

‘Oh boy. I’m going to be hearing about this for decades,’ Ash said, smiling. ‘For hundreds and hundreds of years.’

‘Please be careful in the future,’ Augus said. ‘Please. I’m not always here, and...we stick together, remember? You can’t get this sick again. So just...don’t. Please.’

Augus knew it was useless even as he asked. But for all of Ash’s recklessness, he lived a charmed life, and never seemed to fall into bad luck. Whatever protective magic Pete had around that distillery of his, it must have upset the natural fortune that Ash had in abundance. That was a tricky magic, and a dangerous one. But even if Ash avoided Pete’s distilleries, there were still other ways he could be hurt, other dangers in the world. There was really only one reason that Augus kept such a well-stocked healing kit.

Ash didn’t reply quickly, seemed to be lost for a snappy comeback. He shifted on the couch until he could wrap his arms around Augus properly. It was a solid, grounding grip. Augus felt the stress slowly leach out of him. It made him more aware of his aching feet, and he winced, diverting his attention from the worst of it.

‘I’ll be more careful,’ Ash said eventually, serious, and Augus closed his eyes. It wasn’t in Ash’s nature to be more careful, but it was in his nature to be charmed and fortunate and lucky.

‘Do you need anything? I can make you something to eat,’ Augus said, ‘I can actually serve it to you on a plate, instead of you stealing it furtively and hoping I don’t notice.’

‘Stealing it makes it taste better.’

‘Then I’ll make myself something to eat, and you can steal from my plate,’ Augus said, and smiled when Ash squeezed him tightly.

‘That sounds good. I’ll clean off in the lake while you do that, I-’

‘No,’ Augus said. ‘Shower. Your body temperature isn’t stable yet. At least get back up to your regular temperature before you go cooling it down in the lake again.’

‘A hot shower sounds like the best fucking thing,’ Ash admitted.

But neither of them moved. Augus thought about what he could make for Ash, and he thought about how Ash should shower...but he was comfortable, and Ash showed no signs that he wanted to move either. Eventually Augus felt his own breathing start to even out, and he realised that he was falling asleep. He blinked owlishly up at Ash’s jawline, then closed his eyes.

Ash soothed his hands through Augus’ hair, and Augus pressed his fingers up to Ash’s pulse again, measuring it out, grateful for its steady, strong rhythm.

‘Can I crash here for a few days?’ Ash said, and Augus smiled as he started to drift off into sleep.

‘Ash, you know you may stay as long as you like.’


	3. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Augus' birthday according to Ash, even though Augus doesn't technically know his birthday and Ash doesn't really care - any excuse to get Augus drunk and give him a present is an excuse he'll take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the twee in this; it may cause cavities.
> 
> Reminder: These are AU moments focusing on their affection for one another, and work more as a character study, than a linear story. This is why we have mobile phones and fireworks technology in something that technically occurred at a time that predated mobile phone technology. Shhh. These are character studies.

Augus was in the middle of stripping leaf-tips from an _Elodea_ waterweedonto a small plate, when Ash entered.

‘I swear, the gods just _want_ you to feed me,’ Ash said, yanking the plate from the table and wandering off with it, devouring all of the tips in far less time than it had taken Augus to harvest and pluck them.

‘If you don’t _mind,’_ Augus said, glaring. Ash came back with an empty plate and laid it on the table.

‘Nope. Don’t mind. It’s feral here anyway, isn’t it? I thought you didn’t like doing that. Polluting your pond with foreign species.’

‘They have a finer taste than local varieties,’ Augus said, yanking the large tray of waterweed out of Ash’s hungry fingers. ‘Or, at least, I _believe_ they do, since I have no idea what this harvest tastes like yet. Because you _ate_ it.’

‘Good, I guess,’ Ash said, ‘A bit like waterweed, actually. Taste one, tasted them all.’

‘Philistine,’ Augus muttered, and Ash draped his arms over Augus’ shoulders and rubbed curly, wet hair over his face like a dog. ‘Will you go _away?’_

Ash snorted laughter at him and then wandered off again, disappearing into Augus’ larder. For all that Augus ate humans, he liked a range of different accoutrements to keep his tastes occupied the rest of the time. And of course, he had to keep the pantry stocked with-

‘-Found it!’

‘You come over, eat my food, drink my whiskey.’

‘ _My_ whiskey,’ Ash called from the larder, rummaging through glasses until he found what he was looking for and slamming the wooden door shut. ‘Don’t think I don’t know. When was the last time you had a snifter? Any time in the last decade? I think it’s time again, don’t you? Come on, you can spend the next five years being all pure-minded again.’

He came back, set down the two snifter glasses, and then opened up the bottle easily. _Too many years of practice._

‘This is chwisgi, Reaullt, isn’t it? The stuff the monks made? Jesus, Augus, you know there’s other whisky aside from the _Welsh_ stuff, right? What is this, Frongoch? it’s still okay, I guess, but you should get with the times.’

‘If you want to drink whiskey in my home, you drink what I choose,’ Augus said, lifting the snifter to his nose and scenting it. In amongst the thick, peaty and woody scents, all Augus could smell was the pollutant of the alcohol itself. It jarred with the poison that ran through his own veins, mingled like peppermint and orange on the tongue. He set the snifter down.

‘You’re getting drunk tonight,’ Ash said, grinning. Augus rolled his eyes, but knew Ash was probably right. ‘But first, when was the last time you ate? Properly?’

‘A week ago,’ Augus said, shaking his head. ‘Checking to make sure I won’t unleash myself on the populace?’

‘Hey, some of us remember what you were like when we were on holiday in France, thank you.’

‘Well,’ Augus picked up the snifter again and sipped at the whiskey. It was smooth going down, but his stomach revolted, all the same. He didn’t know how Ash could drink it so easily. He’d enquired whether Ash found it difficult in the past, but all Ash had said at the time was that some of the things worth having in life were those that hurt. ‘France was an anomaly.’

‘That’s a really neat way of saying you got hammered and ate your way through that stable of milkmaids like-’

‘They were all very clean-living,’ Augus said. ‘I will never get an opportunity like that again.’

‘Brother,’ Ash had started to laugh, finishing his glass and pouring himself another, ‘brother, don’t give me that crap. When I found you, you couldn’t even switch back into human-form, you were so gorged.’

‘Quiet,’ Augus said, and Ash laughed harder, raising his second glass in a faux salute. ‘Why are you here, anyway?’

‘I’m _shocked_ you don’t remember. Shocked,’ Ash said, faking offense. He filled up Augus’ glass and ignored the way Augus glared at him. 

‘Today is the day you were spat up into the murky depths of some lake, a cute little foal, all wide-eyed and probably snarking _something_ the day you were born. ‘Oh, my pond water isn’t clear enough. Oh no, this waterweed will never do. Oh dear, I can’t source any decent dark-grained walnut anymore, whatever shall I do.’

‘I don’t talk like that,’ Augus said.

‘Oh no, I don’t talk like that. Oh dear, stop mocking me,’ Ash said, and Augus finished his glass in the hopes that Ash would shut up.

He did, but only because he was too busy refilling Augus’ glass.

‘Remember the first time I organised fireworks for your birthday?’ Ash said, grinning. ‘You were horrified at first, and then like, secretly, I knew you thought they were pretty.’

‘That wasn’t a secret. I believe I said, ‘I find them quite striking. You may do this again.’ That being said, I think taking credit for that Chinese New Year as an early birthday present was a bit much.’

The whiskey was warming him already. His body temperature rose, and the small pinpricks of pain in his stomach, as his poison revolted against the alcohol, faded into nothing else but noticeable heat. Augus reached for his glass and sipped carefully, knowing that he would probably regret this in the morning.

‘At least I remember your birthday,’ Ash said, rolling his eyes.

‘Celebrating birthdays is a _human_ endeavour, and so, you know my opinions on these things.’

‘And yet you’ll reap the benefits of fireworks.’

‘Next you’ll be telling me that you’ve decided to start celebrating Christmas.’

‘It’s not like waterhorses have any holidays or national days of rest or whatever. We have to make our own fun.’

Augus lowered his glass to the table and was surprised that he’d somehow managed to sip it until there was nothing left. Ash was filling his glass again, so quickly that Augus knew he was going to be inebriated within the next twenty minutes. He hardly ever drank. He could already feel it going to his head. Ash was the only one who had ever seen him intoxicated, but he clearly enjoyed the experience. At least he often stayed to see through the hangover.

‘I feel like...this is actually a birthday present for _you,_ and not for _me,’_ Augus said, waving his hand at the glasses, at the bottle of whiskey.

‘Shut up, brother, and drink your whiskey like a good waterhorse.’

The glare that Augus directed at Ash made his younger brother laugh, eyes twinkling.

‘If you do, there’ll be a nice surprise at the end of it.’

‘Not a-’

‘ _No,_ not _food,’_ Ash said, rolling his eyes in a gesture that was so familiar, because Augus had been making it at Ash all his life. ‘God, give me some more credit than that, I mean...really, brother. _Food.’_

‘You ate all my waterweed,’ Augus said, and then winced. That had sounded distinctively sulky. He was _already_ well on his way to drunk.

‘You don’t even know my birthday,’ Augus added, rolling his eyes. ‘We didn’t have a calendar in the pond where I was born, and I don’t remember the day. You just made it up. That’s cheating. You are a birthday cheater.’

‘And you, brother, are hilarious _._ Here, have some more.’ Ash pushed the snifter towards Augus, who picked it up and downed the whole thing in one go, because the taste of whiskey was wretched, and because if he was going to poison his body, he might as well get it over and done with. He glared at Ash.

_Honestly, the things I do for you._

‘One more, and I think we’ll be good and done,’ Ash said encouragingly, and then grinned. ‘Two more, and I think we’ll have to put a bulletin out to all the clean-living ladies in the region except, Jesus Christ, there aren’t any left! You ate them all!’

‘There was only _ten._ I’ve been here for _years._ I haven’t been able to hunt around here for so long.’

‘Ah, it’s so hard being a reclusive, introverted homebody who still somehow manages to attend all the major social parties of the Unseelie fae. Honestly, I pity you. It’s tragic.’ Ash sipped at his snifter and then looked up at the ceiling. His lips gained a pleased, innocent quirk to them. Augus smiled softly. He loved that smile. Ash had the nicest range of smiles.

Augus glared at the last snifter of whiskey.

He was getting drunk very fast.

‘You’re looking at it like you want to get revenge on it and its whiskey brothers,’ Ash said cheerfully and Augus nodded.

‘I do. Point me in the direction of a distillery. I can make it so that whiskey is never made again. Ever. This – I feel – is a very important calling in life.’

‘Yeah, you’re gonna be hungover tomorrow, brother,’ Ash said, and he got up and walked over, picked up the small glass of whiskey and held it up to Augus’ face, who then snatched it with a petulant growl.

‘You’re not even drinking,’ Augus said, sipping at the last glass of whiskey and hoping that Ash knew what he was doing.

Ash never knew what he was doing. They were in trouble.

Then again, he knew what he was doing when it came to alcohol. And picking up women. And picking up men. And scoring free drinks off bartenders by regaling them with friendly stories. And he sort of knew what he was doing with Augus.

Augus sighed. He downed the last glass at once and hissed as his organs turned. Too much, too fast, and his abdomen cramped. He blinked in confusion when Ash thumped him on the back several times.

‘You’ll get over it, it’s just whiskey.’

‘ _Poison,’_ Augus reminded him.

‘The best kind,’ Ash said with a grin, and then dragged Augus’ chair backwards. Augus told himself that he didn’t flail, he certainly didn’t windmill his arms to keep his balance, and Ash certainly wasn’t laughing at _him._

‘What are you doing?’

‘Public transport,’ Ash said, dragging Augus’ chair backwards, across the room, making a terrible scraping noise across the floorboards. Augus winced and then made a sound when Ash tumbled him onto his lounge.

‘I could just _walk_ to the...never mind,’ Augus splayed his fingers on the fabric, and then sighed. He always selected fantastic fabrics. Textures were important to him. Wood-grains, fabric, the slight tack of lacquer against his fingers. He slumped backwards and closed his eyes, stroking the fabric with both of his hands.

‘Okay,’ Ash said, ‘I think your level of drunk is ‘should I get you and the lounge a room?’’

‘I’m not drunk,’ Augus said quietly. ‘I’m a little hungry.’

Augus opened his eyes lazily and grinned. Ash’s expression was briefly alarmed, and then he laughed.

‘Your level of drunk is ‘bad jokes.’ Excellent. You go so _fast,_ brother. We should do this more often.’

‘No,’ Augus said, frowning. ‘Not more often. Alcohol is bad for you. Whiskey tastes like distilled commoner.’

Ash launched himself onto the remainder of the lounge, hardly drunk at all, naturally exuberant. Augus patted him absently, thinking of Labradors and other stupidly bouncy animals. Even as a waterhorse, Ash was nothing of poise or reserved charm, and simply a fey, cheerful creature. As a foal, he’d bounced and frolicked and actually attempted to make friends with _horses._

Ash rubbed his damp hair up into Augus’ hands, and then hummed happily when Augus started scratching at his scalp.

‘You’re a dog,’ Augus muttered, and Ash laughed. ‘No, I’m quite serious, brother. You’ve been replaced by a dog.’

‘I’m just waiting for the whiskey to sink in. How’re you feeling? Pleasant? Fucking fantastic? Let me know.’

Augus placed his palm over Ash’s face clumsily.

‘Hush, dogs can’t talk.’

Ash didn’t say anything, and eventually Augus idly slid his fingers back into Ash’s hair, scratching away at his scalp, feathering his fingers through the damp curls. Almost every waterhorse was born with an obsession with hair, fabrics, furs, and Augus indulged his own frequently. Ash’s short hair used to bother him when he was younger, but now that he was used to it, he liked scrubbing the shorter, springy waves underneath his palm, twining them around his fingers, pulling gently on the pieces of waterweed.

‘I missed you,’ Augus said quietly. ‘You’ve been away more often this year.’

‘I know,’ Ash said, sighing contentedly. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

‘Sometimes I miss how it was, when we were younger.’

‘Me foraging for fruit, you stripping rhizomes and corms from the riverbanks. Preparing waterweeds with herbs that you’d found from nearby. It all just tasted like green to me.’

‘You would find me blueberries,’ Augus said, smiling at the memory. ‘I loved them.’

‘You don’t eat them anymore?’ Ash said, raising his head slightly.

‘They taste better when you get them for me,’ Augus stroked the back of his fingers over Ash’s forehead and raised his eyebrows. ‘Funny that.’

‘You’re so fucking precious,’ Ash said, chuckling. ‘Maybe I’ll find you some blueberries tomorrow, when you’re hungover as shit, brother.’

‘Yes, and the little lantern-berries. Are they in season?’

‘Gooseberries?’ Ash said, laughing. ‘Lantern-berries. Because the coverings look like paper lanterns, right? You made that into a story for me, after a bad dream I’d had. Fuck that was...we were so young. And after that you just kept calling them lantern-berries.’

‘I liked the name,’ Augus said, laughing. ‘The world could do with more whimsy.’

‘Fuck yeah, it could,’ Ash agreed readily, ‘And yours is some of the best.’

‘So for my birthday, you’re just going to compliment me while I’m drunk? You know you can compliment me perfectly well while I’m sober. I’m always open to compliments,’ Augus said, and Ash reached up and tangled his fingers through Augus’, pressing his palm to Augus’ palm.

They lapsed into an affectionate, comfortable silence. Augus’ breathing steadied, and he leaned back and closed his eyes again, a rare wellbeing stealing over him. He liked this. He had a discordant spirit, but something about Ash quelled it, settled what was wild and unruly.

‘You ate my waterweed,’ Augus said and Ash nodded, squeezing Augus’ hand.

‘I did.’

‘Are you hungry? Do you need more?’

‘Ah,’ Ash said, sitting up and smiling at Augus. ‘This is the solicitous level of drunk. We’re getting close now.’

‘I am not that predictable,’ Augus huffed, and then pursed his lips. ‘What level of drunk are you waiting for?’

‘It’s a surprise. While we’re waiting, why don’t you let me comb out your hair.’

Augus narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and then fell forwards limply when Ash simply reached out and tugged on a stray piece of waterweed growing out of his scalp. He ended up sprawled, face forwards, arms over Ash’s legs and face in the lounge. Ash laughed at him and then in a single movement, trailed fingers from Augus’ scalp all the way to the ends of his hair, managing to avoid tangles all the way. Augus closed his eyes, went limp. No one else saw him like this, except Ash.

No one else saw him drunk – well, except for those milkmaids, that _one_ time – and no one else saw him shifting happily as Ash neatened his hair, tucking it behind his ears, grooming him.

‘Everyone thinks you’re so reserved and austere,’ Ash said, ‘but you’re a fucking pushover.’

‘Am not,’ Augus huffed into the fabric. He turned his head sideways and Ash immediately stuck the tip of his finger into Augus’ ear. Augus lashed out clumsily, even as he burst into a wave of unexpected laughter. ‘Hey!’

‘Hey yourself!’ Ash said indignantly. Augus had accidentally clocked him in the chin. ‘Don’t you ‘hey’ me. Shouldn’t you be saying something like, ‘oh I do beg your pardon?’’

‘I don’t sound like that, my accent isn’t like that. Take it back, or I’ll hit you again.’

‘Hit me again, and I’ll tickle you.’

‘No,’ Augus said, a wave of petulance washing over him. ‘No, you can’t. It’s my birthday.’

‘Is it really?’ Ash said, eyebrows rising. ‘I thought birthdays were a human endeavour.’

‘They are,’ Augus said and then his forehead creased and he frowned. ‘I’m confused.’

‘Level of drunk – ‘adorable but confused.’’

‘No,’ Augus said, shaking his head.

‘Next level – ‘flat out denial.’’

‘Stop,’ Augus tilted forwards and pushed his forehead into Ash’s leg. ‘You’re teasing. You ate my food and now you’re teasing me.’

‘And you, brother, are drunk. I don’t know anyone else who gets smashed as quickly as you do. I think we’re almost ready for my present, but first let me comb out your hair properly. Come on. Lie down. Stop trying to dig your forehead into my quad, you’re heavier than you look.’

‘It’s because I’m strong,’ Augus said, squinting into the darkness of Ash’s jeans.

‘Yes, that’s exactly it,’ Ash said indulgently, and Augus straightened as Ash stroked his fingers through Augus’ hair.

‘I’m stronger than I look,’ Augus said, and Ash laughed.

‘I know, I’ve seen you in action, brother. You’re the strongest of all the waterhorses. Ever.’

‘Not stronger than you though,’ Augus said, and Ash made a contemplative sound.

‘I don’t know. I’m rough and tumble, but I think you might have me if we ever went for each other. I’m strong, but you’re pretty wily. You do that pressure point thing.’

‘I would never do that, I wouldn’t fight you,’ Augus said, patting Ash’s shin reassuringly. ‘Because you’d tickle me. And stick your fingers in my ears. You fight dirty.’

‘Yes,’ Ash said, palming the back of Augus’ head, ‘I fucking do.’

‘I fight dirty too,’ Augus said, ‘But not with you. I don’t want to fight you. Why are we talking about fighting each other? It’s my birthday. Let’s talk about something else. What’s my present? Why do I have to be drunk for it?’

‘You don’t have to be drunk for it, I just enjoy when you’re like this. In about two minutes, you’re going to start singing my praises, and I’m so ready for drunk Augus compliments.’

‘Excuse me but I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,’ Augus said primly, and Ash patted the top of Augus’ head with a gentle condescension. ‘Excuse me, _Ash Glashtyn,_ but I don’t think that’s what’s going to be happening.’

'You keep telling yourself that.’

Augus turned over and scowled. His forehead crinkled in disagreement, and then it smoothed out again when Ash deliberately worried at the skin there.

‘Your name is ridiculous,’ Augus muttered. ‘Mine is far better.’

‘Maybe we got you drunk too fast, are you just going to start complimenting yourself, brother?’ Ash said, an indulgent smile listing warmly in his voice.

‘Your name is just a parody of a real name,’ Augus said, and then smiled benignly when Ash pinched his arm.

‘Oi, you.’

‘The only thing good about it, is that your food can pronounce it.’

‘I will tip you off this chair, and cut your hair off.’

Augus’ eyes flew open.

‘You will _not!’_

‘I will cut it _all_ off,’ Ash said, and Augus whined. He started to whine again and then abruptly realised that the sound he was making might not be considered dignified in most circles. ‘You call _me_ a dog, but who’s the one lying here making puppy eyes at me?’

Augus rolled his eyes dramatically and then he looked back up at Ash and smiled.

‘You’re good to me,’ Augus said quietly. ‘Very good.’

Ash’s mouth split from a smile into a grin, but he said nothing. Augus stared up at Ash’s mouth, and then yawned.

‘You have pretty teeth. Your food must like that. Good conformation,’ Augus said, and Ash nodded.

‘Aside from the part where you talk about my conformation, as though I’m some show pony, please, continue.’

‘You’re prettier in your horse-form than I am. I always wanted to be different colours. I’m just...black. Standard really, for a waterhorse. I suppose one could argue you’re some kind of genetic anomaly, but every time I try do that, I keep remembering that you have dapples. _Dapples._ It’s charming. Do you shift much? You don’t, do you?’

‘No, brother, not nearly as much as you. We’re shit waterhorses really. Even you. Spending more time in human form than horse form. I mean it’s no wonder we’ve never really gotten along with the others.’

‘Well, _honestly_ , they’re a rather dour, charmless lot.’

‘So you still like the dapples huh? I don’t think you brought that up since...the last time you were smashed.’

‘Not smashed,’ Augus said, and then realised the room was blurring. ‘Somewhat smashed. Look, they’re just _pretty,_ okay? I like nice things. I appreciate fine fabrics and intriguing wood-grains and...oh, will you stop _laughing?_ ’

‘Suddenly I feel like I’m a piece of furniture in a store and you’re wondering where the best place to put me in your house is.’

‘You’re the best place in my house,’ Augus said, closing his eyes and laughing at the ridiculousness of his statement from behind a closed mouth. Once, he’d been a dignified waterhorse. Then Ash came along with his mentions of birthdays and demanding whiskey. It always went like this. He didn’t even have the wherewithal to be outraged at himself anymore.

‘Well, fuck,’ Ash said, ‘What’s someone supposed to say to that?’

‘Say, ‘thank you, Augus, you’re a good brother.’’

‘No, I think I’ll say, ‘get up, you ridiculous ass. It’s time for your present.’’

‘But now I’m comfortable _,’_ Augus griped, and then felt gravity turn over as Ash pushed him out of the chair, onto the floor. ‘Decidedly _uncomfortable.’_

‘Get up!’ Ash said, and Augus opened his mouth to complain when two arms slid under his and lifted him upright. It took Augus a few moments to find his feet, and when he was able to stand properly, he frowned at Ash.

‘I’m going to be very hungover,’ Augus said, ‘Will you stay?’

‘Have I ever not stayed, when I’ve gotten you smashed out of your wits? Jesus.’

‘Can’t my present just be falling asleep on the lounge and some spring water tomorrow?’

‘No, I worked hard to make this work, damn it, and we are going to do this _right.’_

‘The room is spinning,’ Augus said. ‘Everything is spinning.’

‘Great, when I teleport you, don’t throw up on me.’

Augus realised he was being dragged towards the front of his house, where his foyer merged seamlessly into the boundary of the dome. He blinked, stumbled, and then kept up. He realised that Ash was pulling him along by his hand, and he squeezed it, wondering if locomotion would be easier as a waterhorse.

_No, that would require coordinating four legs. That would be a disaster of unequalled proportions._

Augus shivered when Ash dragged him straight into the water. It always took a moment for his lungs to adjust, even though he was perfectly adapted to breathe water and air; but he knew Ash wanted to teleport them both and he needed the water to do it, so instead he held his breath. It went against his instincts to keep the air in his lungs, to not simply open them to the lake and let it saturate his airways. He clung onto Ash’s shirt sleeves, braced himself for Ash’s lackadaisical approach to teleportation, and grunted as he felt the world ripple through him.

Immediately, they were in the shallows, close to the bank. Ash was propelling Augus towards the shore, and Augus managed to somehow get his feet up underneath himself so that he could get up onto the mossy shoreline. A moment later, Ash was there helping him, one wet arm underneath his torso, and a bark of laughter on his lips.

‘Okay, over here is good.’

Ash led them to one of the clearings where Augus liked to curl up in the early spring sunlight, before it got too warm. The grass was long and soft, the soil rich and fertile. Augus took good care of the land around his lake, and he smiled down at the grass as he stumbled over it.

The cool air was refreshing as he sat down, and he took a deep breath, finding it cleansing. More of that, or the pond water, and he’d feel better, sooner. He looked up quietly when he felt the back of Ash’s hand press gently against his forehead.

‘Hm?’ Augus said, and then smiled up at him.

‘Just making sure you’re not about to go destroy whatever is left of a human population around here.’

‘Would that involve moving?’ Augus said, and Ash smiled back.

‘Yes. So just, I want you to lie down and look up at the stars for me, alright? I know it sounds as cheesy as shit, but just do it.’

Lying down was too tempting to pass up, and he stretched out on his back, looking up at the constellations above. His vision, like that of most predatory waterhorses, was better suited to tracking movement, but all the same he liked the patterns they made, up in the sky.

Augus blinked when he heard a distant electrical hum, and then Ash came bounding back, holding cushions in his hands.

‘This is very confusing,’ Augus said, as Ash dropped two cushions on top of him.

‘Yeah, they’re called pillows. Put them under your head you daft idiot. Honestly. I know you’re the older one, but no one told me you’d be the- HEY!’

Augus smirked and withdrew his claws from where he’d dug them into Ash’s ankle.

‘You made me bleed, you ass!’ Ash said, dropping so that he could look at the damage.

‘Stop whining, you brought that on yourself.’

 _‘Why_ am I so nice to you again?’ Ash said, holding up his fingers to show Augus the blood on them. Augus snickered and Ash scowled, though Augus was glad when he could see the playful light in his eyes. ‘You are drunk. I’m not interested in your sadistic streak, so you tone it down, or I will shut this down and leave.’

‘You can’t leave, I’ll be pitiful tomorrow morning.’

‘You keep your damned claws to yourself. You’re gonna feel bad about that when you see what I’ve organised.’

‘About that,’ Augus said, shifting the cushions under his head until he was more comfortable. ‘Is that a _generator?_ Did you hook up a generator near my lake? What is this?’

‘Lie the fuck down and shut the fuck up, I’m not done yet,’ Ash said, and Augus lifted his head as Ash headed off into the woods again. Ash was longer the second time around, and Augus worried briefly if he’d genuinely angered him, but surely he hadn’t. They’d had exchanges like that all their lives. Still, when Ash came back, holding something in his hands and unable to hide his excitement, Augus breathed out a quiet sigh of relief and slumped back on the cushions.

‘Let me get settled too, hang on,’ Ash said, as he grabbed the other cushions and pushed them up alongside Augus’ head, so that when he settled down, they were lying next to each other.

‘Are you ready?’ Ash said, and Augus nodded, even though he had no idea what he was supposed to be getting ready for. Even though he was slightly worried that if it required a generator, maybe it would be painfully loud.

Ash turned to his side and pressed the remote control into Augus’ hand. He lifted Augus’ arm up so that Augus could see the remote more clearly.

‘Press the red one, and happy birthday, bro.’

‘Will it destroy the human world?’ Augus said, before pressing down. ‘If it won’t destroy all the humans, I’m not sure if-’

‘Yeah, because I’m going to destroy our only food-source for your birthday, because _that’s_ my style. Just press the button, Jesus.’

But Ash laughed all the same, and then twined a strand of Augus’ hair in his fingers so that Augus hummed, shivered and pressed the red button without thinking about it.

There was a loud popping sound in the distance, and Augus startled, but when Ash didn’t react, he settled back down. Ash pointed up languidly at the sky, just as Augus realised what the sound was and his mouth dropped open even before the first firework burst green and white over his pond.

‘Ah,’ Augus said, pushing himself upright, as several more pops sounded in the distance, followed by the whistling of firework shells climbing through the atmosphere. ‘ _Ash.’_

These were not the small, domestic fireworks purchased by children at a market. These were proper minor blast pyrotechnics, the kind that-

Augus blinked as kamuro, one of his favourites, exploded overhead. Three at first, then another five, gold and red and choreographed. Their heavy glitter trails lingered in the clear sky, forming the boy’s haircut that they resembled and blinking benignly at the world.

‘...How?’ Augus breathed, staggering upright so he could get closer to the sky. He couldn’t help it. Fireworks, they were so strange, so alien to him. The first time he’d seen them, a combination of stars and movement, exciting his eyes and turning his heart to a fluttery wonder, he had felt as though the world around him was unfathomably improved by their presence.

‘I fucked a pyrotechnics expert. No, wait, I _met_ a pyrotechnics expert, and then I asked him to set this up for me, in exchange for a couple of weeks of pretty awesome fucking, if you must know. Well worth it. He was _hot.’_

‘There’s more of them,’ Augus said, without thinking about what he was saying. He could hear now, the increasing number of pops in the background, which must have come from a professional flash pot nearby, and the generator must have been powering the whole event. When Augus thought of the amount of effort that must have gone into it, his mind blanked.

Which left the perfect amount of room for him to fully appreciate the sudden cascade of a giant willow firework, booming huge and waterweed green into the sky, trailing its sparks down so that it resembled the weeping willow that it was named after. All around, smaller crossettes. And then, just as the green willow started to fade, the sky was lit with the phosphorent blue of Bengal fire, streaking haphazardly, eagerly, with a vibrant movement that made Augus’ hands flex at his sides.

Minutes passed, and the pyrotechnics display kept going. The wonder that kept him transfixed and unable to speak transformed and he turned to Ash, speechless.

‘You did this for me?’

‘Nope, there’s another waterhorse actually, just down the way, who _also_ loves fireworks, and-’

‘Really?’ Augus said, ignoring him completely, answering instead the pleased light in Ash’s eyes.

‘Keep watching, and come lie down properly, so you can appreciate it better,’ Ash said, and Augus lowered himself back down to the ground, staring up at the sky again. There were so many fireworks being set off, that the smoke they were making was beginning to linger in the sky, lit by the repeated burst of fireworks shells.

The next two minutes were just repeated bursts of strobes, that lit the sky with their small bright flickers and flashes. They were blue and green, Augus’ favourite colours, and they turned the stars into something that Augus could have stared at all evening.

‘So,’ Ash said, smiling, ‘do you believe in birthdays now?’

‘I believe in fireworks,’ Augus said, the side of his mouth tilting upwards. ‘I believe in you.’

Ash made a sound that was halfway between coughing and choking, and Augus spared a brief glance to make sure that he was okay. Ash was shaking his head and looked like he was trying not to laugh, and Augus shrugged, unabashed. He’d had too much to drink. And besides, he wasn’t ashamed of caring for Ash, or for that matter, caring for fireworks.

But then Ash seemed to be able to find his way past choking and his first breath of air was devoted to laughing raucously. He flopped back onto the ground and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

‘Oh god, you’re a schmaltzy piece of work, you know that?’

‘Quiet, they’re still going,’ Augus said, and ignored Ash as his laughter eventually died away.

The air around them was filled with the crackles, reports and pops of fireworks being set off from the flash pot on the ground – where that was, Augus had no idea – and shells being exploded in the sky. He had no idea how much all of it cost, except that it must have been a small fortune.

When the sky filled with four giant willow fireworks, Augus pressed a hand to his chest. As they lingered in the night sky, Ash turned to him.

‘Brother?’ Ash asked quietly, and Augus hummed to indicate that he’d heard. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sky. ‘Augus, will you sing for me?’

‘Mm, everyone knows my voice isn’t as good as yours, Ash.’

‘Sure, sure, some people know that. But I like your voice. It’s softer, more haunting. People just like my shit because it’s loud and it fills a bar. But...please, Augus?’

Augus blinked when something clicked into place in his mind.

‘You didn’t need me drunk for the fireworks, you wanted me drunk enough so I would _sing_ to you?’

‘Come on, Augus!’ Ash practically whined. ‘I’ve been working on this for fucking ages. All day today I had to set up the stupid flash pot and the generator and let me tell you the waterweed I ate in exchange for that wasn’t very filling. Just a little singing. Any song. You can pick the most depressing song in the whole of the Kingdom, for all I care. Just a little.’

‘I haven’t sung in-’

‘Last time you were drunk, and then probably the time before that, come _on,_ Augus!’

Augus groaned and leaned his head back onto the cushions and stared up at the sky. He swore that when he saw two giant brocade crowns, he didn’t make a sound in the back of his throat. The brocade crowns were usually used to end a fireworks display, but to his increasing wonder, the fireworks continued.

‘How long does this go for?’

‘Yeah, about that, maybe a while.’

‘I swear, Ash, people take one look at your cock and money just falls magically out of their wallets.’

‘I’d like to think it has less to do with looking and more to do with _doing,_ but whatever, that’s essentially how it goes, yeah. Now that I’ve won you over with this impressive pyrotechnics display, _literally,_ can you please sing for me?’

Augus groaned again and then sifted through his mind for a song as he watched the fireworks. He really hated singing. Ash was the one with the loud, boisterous voice, and Augus only sang during private moments. He hadn’t even intended for Ash to hear him once his voice had broken and he was older. It was an accident. Augus had been stripping waterweed on the banks of his pond, singing quietly to himself, only to be shocked by a great hulk of Ash jumping directly onto him and shouting, ‘You can _sing?!’_

He found a song he thought he could manage, and then looked over at Ash, who was looking fixedly up at the sky, an innocent look on his face.

‘Don’t watch me,’ Augus warned, and Ash laughed.

‘Wouldn’t _dream_ of it. The last time I did that, you made me regret it for two weeks.’

‘Good,’ Augus said. He couldn’t remember what he’d done, he must have been _really_ drunk that time.

Augus didn’t bother sitting up, even though it would make it harder to shape the notes. He started quietly, letting the booms of the fireworks drown out his voice as they came and went. He had picked an old fae ballad, one that he’d overheard others sing a few times and had committed to memory because he’d liked its simple, melodic sweetness. He stumbled over the second verse when a new range of brocade shells exploded into the sky, and almost stopped completely when Ash’s fingers found his and curled around his hand.

He continued, however, finding his way through the third and fourth verses, and finishing with the fifth, and subsiding into silence. He felt considerably more sober, after singing. The melody had cleared his head.

He startled when Ash suddenly lurched over and wrapped both arms around him, pressing his forehead into Augus’ hair.

‘Who’s schmaltzy now, brother?’ Augus asked, blinking away from the sky and reaching up to place a palm on Ash’s shoulder. The world tilted slightly as he turned his head and he realised that the singing might have sobered him up, but not _that_ much.

‘It just all went the way it should,’ Ash said, and grinned. ‘Will you sing me something else?’

‘No,’ Augus said, smiling affectionately.

But as the fireworks continued lighting up the sky with their blues, greens, golds and silvers, Augus found his way to another song, and another, his heart filled with gratitude, until the fireworks ended twenty minutes later.


	4. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Augus spends too long at the bottom of his lake in waterhorse form, upsetting his biology and his health, and faces serious consequences. Thankfully Ash is there to help the brother who is normally helping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hurt/comfort in this one. Changing up the dynamic here. Usually Augus is the one looking after Ash, and Augus does not take it so well when the roles are reversed.

After feeding, he’d spent at least a week at the bottom of his lake in horse-form, digesting his food, moving very little. The fact was that he probably should have spent more time in horse-form than he actually did, and he didn’t have any clients coming in. He always felt more in touch with his raw power, in horse-form; more vicious, more alert to the vulnerable, to prey. Time drifted past him, his mind became a still lake, being in human-form seemed far away.

So it was that he felt wilder than usual, when he called his human-form to himself again and let himself swim over to his home. He’d struggled more than usual to shift back, his waterhorse body resisting the changer. His hair had grown an unusual amount length, and needed cutting. It had grown well past the bottom of his shoulders; the meal and the time spent in horse-form forcing growth. He squeezed the bulk of the water out of it, but he was still freely and heavily dripping even as he walked into his home. He was at peak health, and all he could think was that it would be inconvenient, having to deal with lake water absolutely _everywhere._

He was still hungry, so he walked into his larder. He never ate often enough, and so he needed more between feeds. He’d met other carnivorous waterhorses who had stopped eating vegetable matter as soon as they’d grown old enough to eat and digest meat,  but he and Ash had never stopped.

Several jars that had been stocked a week ago, were empty. Augus sighed. Ash had visited at some point then. He pulled out a jar of dried, roasted rhizomes and crunched into them, barely tasting the flavour, only wanting something else to quench his hunger. It would be at least another three weeks before he fed again, but there was a darker instinct that told him to hunt now, already, to go seeking for prey. He wanted three weeks in human-form, and so he had to stave off the worst of the hunger. It was always the worst in the first few hours after returning to human-form. That was always when he didn’t entirely trust himself.

He pulled corms and root vegetables out and ate them raw. It wasn’t until he was halfway through crunching up a raw potato that he realised that he was going to eat himself out of supplies, and he still needed enough food to last him during the week. He’d have to go foraging. It was dangerous to do that now, he preferred to wait at least another few days. But he’d have to do it soon.

Augus sighed, finished what he was eating, and hoped sleeping in human-form would help. It had in the past. If it grounded him enough, he could go up above-ground and start looking for food again. He hoped there would be enough, it had been a hard winter, and some of his carefully cultivated crops had died off in the frost and snow.

He walked down the hall towards his bedroom, a closed door at the end. As he passed the other doors on his way, he was surprised to see one ajar. They were usually all closed. He narrowed his eyes, hooked his fingers so that his claws would be more useful, and felt his teeth grow sharper in response to the possible threat.

Ash was lying down on a spare bed, snoring quietly. There was a book on philosophy opened next to him, the page folded down where he’d intended to mark his spot before falling asleep. He must have forgotten to close the book.

Augus stared at him quietly. At another time, he might have smiled, might even have woken him up, asked for the reason for his visit. But he was too wild for it now. He found no language available to him, and instead he simply watched his brother quietly, seriously, for several long minutes, before continuing his slow and disoriented pace back to his room.

He got onto his bed clumsily, still learning the gait of two legs over four. If he changed to waterhorse form for an hour or two, this didn’t happen. But he’d spent a week in that form, and it pulled at him. His articulate hands disturbed him, that they were fleshy and not as hard as hooves. And his legs bent at different, strange angles. Simply finding a position that was comfortable took some doing. Eventually he lay half on his front, legs curled up tight underneath him, and arms tucked to his chest. It was close enough to the position he’d been sleeping in for the past week, that he was able to drift off.

His last thought as sleep claimed him, was that his hair was remarkably wet, and that he’d forgotten to put clothes on.

*

He woke up slowly, hours later, and smelled beechnuts nearby. His mouth started filling with saliva even before he quite understood what was going on.

‘Hey, hey,’ Ash said, ‘you need to eat.’

Augus’ eyes flew open, and he stared at his brother in confusion for a few moments. What had happened? Why was Ash here? And Ash was watching him with a curious look on his face, one that held a hint of concern there. Ash looked down, Augus followed his gaze and saw roasted beechnuts. He’d forgotten it had been a mast year, and reached down hungrily, grabbing a handful and pressing them all into his mouth, questions disappearing under the weight of his hunger.

‘Yep,’ Ash said quietly. ‘Knew it. You spent too long in horse-form, huh?’

Augus didn’t reply, but kept eating until his hands were an oily, herbed mess and the hollow pit of hunger in his stomach had somewhat abated. He licked at his fingers and stared up at Ash, wondering if there was more food. He remembered, belatedly, that the whole reason he’d slept in the first place was to find a more trustworthy internal place, so that he could go foraging without worrying about unleashing himself on the locals that he didn’t like to eat in the first place.

He certainly didn’t feel more stable.

Augus looked around him, and then got up, walking back towards the kitchen. Ash followed him promptly, and sighed when he saw Augus go directly into the larder.

‘Why did you do it this time? And for so _long?_ ’ Ash said, dropping the plate down on the table where it clattered and then circled over and over, before settling with a ring atop the wood. ‘It must have been at least three weeks that you were at the bottom of that lake.’

Augus paused, a hand on a jar of fermented lily bulbs. His eyes widened.

‘A week,’ Augus called, his voice hoarse.

‘Nope, not a fucking week, _at least three.’_

‘A week,’ Augus called again, and Ash poked his head into the larder.

‘Listen to yourself and have a really long think about how hair-metal your hair is right now.’

Augus reached around and grabbed his hair, looking at it, eyes narrowing.

How could it have been three weeks? He was sure he’d been marking the days off. He opened the jar absently and ate the bulbs until he remembered that he didn’t like them, and he only kept them for Ash. He kept eating them anyway, and walked out of the larder. He tripped over his own feet, and remembered that he had two of them now, making a face of frustration at himself.

His hair was still dripping freely and rapidly.

It _could_ have been three weeks.

‘I thought a week,’ Augus said, and Ash rocked back on a chair not designed for rocking, and crossed his ankles on Augus’ table. Augus watched and resisted the urge to sink his claws deep into Ash’s ankles, to pull at sinew and tendon. He hated when people did that. He hated when Ash did that. His hands clenched into fists and he found himself staring, and Ash watched him closely, and then took his feet back off the table again.

‘Your hair needs a cut,’ Ash said, ‘Unless you want to become the lead singer of a thrasher band or something. But then it’ll need some product.’

Augus stared at him, and then picked some more fermented bulbs out of the jar and ate them all.

‘Oh boy,’ Ash said to himself.

He got up, disappeared and came back a jar of raw beechnuts. Augus didn’t often keep his home stocked with them, especially as he could only get them on mast years, when the beech was seeding properly, and not throwing up fake fruits.

Ash disappeared again, while Augus ate the small nuts raw and unpeeled, swallowing down the husky outer coating and accidentally getting his hand stuck in the jar’s mouth when the massive handful he’d grabbed wouldn’t fit through the opening. He had to let some of the beechnuts go, and he growled at the glass for thwarting him.

When Ash came back and placed a warm hand on the back of his head, Augus went very still, and then he bowed to it, helpless.

Ash moved his hand down, took up a length of it in his hands, and then snipped through it at the base with a sharp pair of scissors. Which would have been fine, except he caught a piece of waterweed in the length.

A flash of sharp pain rippled down Augus’ spine and he leapt out of the chair, upsetting it. He whirled on Ash, claws up.

_'Ow!’_ he shouted, and Ash stared at him.

‘ _Hey,’_ Ash said, and glared. ‘You will sit the fuck down, and let me cut your hair because it looks _ridiculous._ And your waterweed wouldn’t hurt so damned much if you cut it as often as I did. Jesus, Augus, pick up your chair and sit down.’

Augus scowled at him, and then reluctantly picked his chair up and sat in it again. When Ash took up another length of hair in his hand, Augus tensed and hissed.

‘Yeah, that’s great Augus, wonderful to hear it. I’m going fantastic. I was gonna crash here for a few days, maybe have some good times with you, only to find you wilder than fuck and starving. What the hell would possess you to spend all that time in horse-form?’

‘I didn’t know,’ Augus said around a mouthful of beechnuts. ‘I thought it had been a week.’

‘Since you usually only spend two days digesting your food, why a _week?_ Huh? Just one of those times you really thought you should get back to your roots because you felt obligated to be like the other waterhorses? I thought you were done with that. You had a great and rousing speech about it the last time this came up.’

Ash cut off more of his hair. He was cutting around the waterweed though, obviously saving it for last, or perhaps for a time when Augus was less likely to turn on him.

‘I’m hungry,’ Augus said, staring at the empty jar of beechnuts.

‘Yeah, I’m starting to wonder if you need actual _food.’_

Augus blinked, realised what Ash meant, and then shook his head vigorously. Ash tapped him lightly with his fingers, made him hold his head still before shearing off some more of his hair.

‘No,’ Augus said. ‘I have a routine.’

‘You fucked your routine,’ Ash said, sounding annoyed.

‘I’ll find...equilibrium, soon enough,’ Augus managed, though his mouth stumbled around all the words.

‘Yeah, doubt it. You eat once a month, right? If it’s been three weeks, and that’s a conservative guess on my part, by the way, then you probably need to hunt again.’

_‘No,’_ Augus said, stubbornly.

‘Augus,’ Ash said, then placed his palm on the back of his head again. ‘You know I’m right. Why are you being like this? You’re starving. This is more my style, not yours.’

Augus hunched over the table and stared at the empty jar of beechnuts, wishing there was more. He was hungry. He could feel his whole body eating away at itself. He didn’t want Ash to be right. Because Ash hated eating humans even though his biology demanded that he do it. And Augus didn’t want to hunt and eat around him. He hunted in private. The side of himself that he showed Ash was a side that was almost wholly vegetarian. Ash hadn’t seen him hunt since Augus had shown him how, thousands of years ago.

It was private.

‘If you leave, maybe,’ Augus said, and winced. He couldn’t even manage proper sentences. He didn’t even know how he was going to hunt. There was no way he’d be able to stalk his preferred prey. He’d have to settle for someone who polluted themselves, and Augus was fussy, he’d always been fussy. If his food wasn’t clean, he felt ill for days, his mind felt clouded.

‘Fuck that, I’m not leaving. You’re...you don’t even _know_ how you are, because you’re too hungry to see how you’re acting. But this is not normal, Augus. I haven’t seen you like this before.’

‘I could have sworn it was a week,’ Augus said, brow furrowing. He quietened when Ash drew his hand down the length of Augus’ hair. He tried to remember what Ash had just said, and he dug his claws into the table. ‘If you’re not leaving, then I’m not hunting. Come back in a week.’

‘Now you’re just being stubborn, you ass.’

Ash brought his palm back to Augus’ head and held it there, a universal gesture that calmed most waterhorses. Augus bristled a little, that Ash found the need to do it more often, but it was working. He ground his teeth together and then blew out a sigh.

Augus and Ash had never developed proper attitudes towards their food. Once, a long time ago, the lake had made a mistake, and spat out a second foal, this one brown with dapples and a curly mane and tail, when Augus was five years old and still locked deep in horse-form.

Predatory waterhorses weren’t supposed to have brothers. They were supposed to be solitary, always. They were supposed to stay in horse-form until their appetite turned carnivorous around the age of twenty. Ash was probably not supposed to live – the smaller of the two, and unable to find enough vegetation to eat in the lake they shared together.

But Augus loved his brother, and shared what he could. And – not knowing that he was forcing himself against the laws of nature – he forced himself into human-form early, because foraging for enough food for his brother went a lot better with hands and opposable thumbs and the ability to climb trees and knock apples off the branches.

And Ash, who loved his brother more than anything, did something that no predatory waterhorse had done before; forcing himself into human-form at the age of five, and spending most of his time in it after that. Augus couldn’t be sure why exactly Ash had the warped instincts that he did, but he was certain that had something to do with it. They didn’t know at the time that they were hindering their development. But now Ash didn’t like spending long in horse-form, he didn’t enjoy hunting, he didn’t enjoy eating people, he was interested in things that predatory waterhorses shouldn’t be remotely interested in; morals, ethics, responsibility.

And Augus...who _did_ enjoy hunting and loathed humans, and was inordinately fussy for a waterhorse when selecting his food, ate less because prey was hard to find and because he was sensitive to Ash’s thoughts about it. He’d tried, when they were younger, to foster a greater predatory nature in Ash, but it hadn’t worked. He’d tried explaining that they were waterhorses, and that it was the natural order of things, and that it couldn’t be helped, and that there was a little monster in everyone.

Ash had cried the first time he’d fed on his true prey. He’d been inconsolable for days.

Augus didn’t particularly want to go hunting, knowing Ash was hanging around his home, especially while Augus was hunting for food.  

‘I want you to leave,’ Augus said quietly. ‘And then I will hunt. And it will be fine.’

‘What if you forget to change back again? Or leave it too long? If you go and become like those other stupid waterhorses, what then, huh? I come visit and you’re just a monster in a lake?’

‘I made a mistake,’ Augus said, his voice growing cold. ‘It’s not likely to happen again. I’m not enjoying this either.’

Forcing himself to lucidity, to complete sentences, was a strain on his system. A headache started to creep through his skull, a strangling vice around his thoughts.  He shuddered, and stared morosely at the empty jar.

‘Is there anything else to eat?’ Augus said, plaintive.

He didn’t think he had the strength to hunt. It was becoming obvious that he would need to eat enough to vegetation to rally just enough to look for the prey he was supposed to eat. Ash was right, he was starving. He’d left it too long. In waterhorse-form they had a much higher metabolism, it was impossible to know how much of his own reserves his body had chewed away while he’d been sleeping in the depths.

‘Fucking hell,’ Ash said, and groaned. ‘I’ll find something. While I’m gone, cut through the living parts of your mane, so you can snarl at yourself if you’re gonna snarl at something. I swear to god, Augus, _three weeks._ Never again, seriously.’

‘Kindly stop yelling at me,’ Augus said, and Ash stared at him.

‘I’m not yelling at y-’ Ash sighed and growled at the back of his throat. ‘This is useless. I’m going to find you something to eat, so you can hunt _.’_

He left quickly, and Augus watched him go, hunger scratching incessantly at his stomach, his throat. He was swallowed by a sudden wave of vindictive anger, and he grabbed all of the living waterweed that Ash had avoided cutting through, pulled it tight, and sliced through it all at once. The pain made his spine stiffen and his head split with a white hot pain, and the waterweed that remained bled droplets of sap that landed thickly on the floor, that stiffened the tips of his hair. He didn’t know how Ash dealt with it. He hated cutting his hair. In only three weeks, the waterweed had grown more sensitive.

Ash was right, if he’d let it go much longer, he would have become like all those other predatory waterhorses. The ones that spent almost all their time exclusively in horse-form, unless they were hunting.

He didn’t want that. He liked being a waterhorse, but not when it came at the cost of connecting with Ash.

He walked back into the larder and placed his hands on anything that looked edible, and ended up sinking down to the floor, tired and pained. He ate slowly, because he had to, his mouth tasting nothing except the fact that he wasn’t eating meat.

*

Ash came back with fruit, which was not something that Augus enjoyed. When Ash tumbled the apples out in front of him, Augus gagged and reached out anyway.

‘The sugar will give you enough energy to go and hunt,’ Ash said.

Neither of them talked about why Ash just hadn’t brought a human back to his house. Aside from the fact that Ash would have struggled with doing such a thing at all; neither of them could stomach human meat if they didn’t hunt it first. Augus had tried, after all, to see if Ash could consume pre-caught, or dead human flesh.

It hadn’t worked. Without the hunt, the waterhorse instincts didn’t kick in properly, and it was almost impossible to consume their food; let alone digest it.

‘After this you’ll leave,’ Augus managed, hating the sweetness that made his mouth feel sticky and wrong. Ash liked sugar, Augus hated it.

‘No,’ Ash said flatly. ‘No fucking way.’

‘Except that you’ll leave,’ Augus insisted, and Ash crouched down beside him suddenly, staring at him hard.

‘ _No,’_ Ash said. ‘Don’t fucking push me on this, Augus. Do I look like someone who’s fucking around on this? I’m not. I’ve _never_ seen you like this before. You can make it up to me later with whiskey or something. You can make it up to me now by going out and hunting and making sure you’re okay. Hell, you can make it up to me by coming with me to a pub, and not once saying anything about how the livestock are boring you.’

Augus managed a weak snicker as he reached for another apple. He _had_ done that last time. In the end, Ash had taken him home, disgusted, and Augus had the good sense to feel a little ashamed for ruining Ash’s night the next day.

Augus finished everything, the cores, the stems, the leaves on the stems; everything. Ash then shoved his hands underneath his arms and pulled him upright, and pushed him towards the door.

‘Go hunt,’ Ash said. ‘Do whatever you need to do. I’m staying until I know you’re back in your house, food digested properly, in human-form. I’m gonna make you change back myself.’

‘Get _off_ me,’ Augus snarled, shoving him away. ‘I can _walk._ In case you don’t remember, because you were the runt of the lake and your instincts have been destroyed, we are supposed to be solitary, private, reclusive creatures. If you want me to hunt, I’ll hunt, but if I hear one word from you – _one word –_ about how you feel about the precious humans, I will-’

‘Jesus, Jesus fucking Christ, _that’s_ what this is about? You’re worried about how I’ll react? It was my fucking idea!’

But Ash’s face suddenly cleared of anger, and he frowned. He opened his mouth, looking like he was going to apologise, but Augus was aware that he _had_ to feed. Maybe one day, in the future, he wouldn’t need to feed like this, but three weeks in horse-form, and still only being young...Ash was right, he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before.

Augus looked at Ash for a long time, and then walked out of his home, leaving him alone in it, that worried look still on his face.

*

There was no time to look and stalk his preferred prey. No time to win them over with charm or take his time or sink into the mindset of the hunt. And taking to it prematurely, needing to privilege close and accessible over a human with the living habits he preferred... Augus couldn’t help that he was fussy. He’d always been that way. If people smoked, drank, took drugs, weren’t fit, didn’t look after their bodies, cleaned their houses with too much bleach or detergent, it made him ill. It clashed with his chemistry, and left his body out of sorts for days.

But he had no choice. He knew he’d done it to himself, briefly flirted with the idea of feeling guilty about it, and then discarded the guilt. There was no point. Instead he concentrated on what he was supposed to be doing, and after feeling a sharp stab of hunger when he passed the second human and decided they weren’t good enough, he realised he could not afford to be picky. He’d have to make do.

And now, digesting his meal at the bottom of his lake, a liver floating up on the lake bank where it would be picked at by crows and carrion birds, his mind drifted in that peculiar, empty place it always did when he was digesting. Time lost relevance, and he kept his head tucked close to his side, mane drifting in the water, fish swimming through it.

He felt terrible. He’d not had time to vet the third person, could smell toxins rolling out of their flesh, would be processing them himself for days. He closed his eyes, shut out the dark, murky world of his lake bottom, shut out the distant green glow of the protective dome, and let blackness steal over every last one of his thoughts.

*

He woke to a hooved leg nudging him, and lashed out with a snarl, creating thick turbulence in the water. His teeth flashed sharp, maw ready to bite and tear.

The brown waterhorse in front of him faced him squarely, eyes serious. His short curly mane looked ridiculous. Augus growled instinctively. In his waterhorse form, he wanted to be solitary. The whole reason he’d changed the way he’d lived his life in the first place, was so that he wouldn’t chase Ash away from his lake. And he was most likely to do it in this form. Territorial instincts took over, and he saw Ash and wanted to fight, to pit his might against him.

He growled again.

Ash growled back. A deep, supernatural sound that filled the lake and vibrated against his side. But it was not the growl that made Augus subside, but staring at that ridiculous mane. It occurred to him that this was something he found amusing. And amusement chased away the worst of his need to fight, and left him with a dull sense that he felt ill, and a longing for dryness and warmth.

He followed Ash silently towards his own home, shifting back to human-form even as he stepped into his own foyer. Ash shifted back immediately after, shaking water out of his hair.

Augus’ mind felt clear for the first time in weeks, but his body felt silty and dirty. He bent over himself and groaned softly.

‘I ate landfill,’ Augus managed, and Ash didn’t say anything, only pulled him close, and helped him into his home. When Augus realised that Ash intended to help him to his room, Augus leaned away and stumbled over to his couch. His room was too far.

He fell into it and drew his legs up to his stomach. He wasn’t done digesting yet. Ash had made him change back early. No wonder he’d felt so territorial.

‘You just wait there,’ Ash said quietly. Augus didn’t have much of a choice in the matter anyway, and he hadn’t moved when Ash returned, draping a blanket over him and then sitting beside him on the couch with a sigh.

‘I’m much better,’ Augus said. ‘I’m lucid. I recognise the error of my ways and so forth. I’d like to feel miserable in private.’

Ash didn’t say anything for a long time, and then he placed a careful hand on Augus’ leg.

‘Augus, do you sometimes regret living the way you do? Do you wish you were...not like the way we are?’

Augus’ eyes opened and he stared ahead blankly.  

‘Fucking ridiculous, I know right?’ Ash continued. ‘Yeah, whatever, but I can’t help but wonder. You have to fight yourself sometimes, not to chase me away, or...not to be hostile. And sometimes that doesn’t even work. I can’t tell if you’re just being pissy, because you can be a dick, Augus...’

‘I feel like I’m digesting several very large and heavy rocks,’ Augus grumbled. ‘Made out of poison. If you’re trying to ask me if I regret changing my life to make room for you in it, then your brain is probably also made out of some very large and heavy rocks. Made out of poison.’

‘Right,’ Ash said, and Augus could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Gotcha.’

‘Your brain is though, made of rocks,’ Augus said, and Ash squeezed his leg.

‘A real dick,’ Ash said, grinning. ‘An absolute asshole. I can tell you’re back.’

‘So go clubbing then,’ Augus said. ‘Drink things and fuck people and do whatever it is that you do when you’re not here.’

Augus turned the other way so that he was facing his couch and curled up further. He felt terrible. He’d been pulled out of his digestion process at least a day early. It told him clearly how paranoid Ash had been. Or impatient. Patience had never been Ash’s strong suit.

Ash slid up the couch until he could place a hand on Augus’ back, and then rubbed quiet circles into it.

‘Will anything help this?’ he said.

Augus shook his head. There was nothing that helped this process. He’d tried everything in the past at least once, every digestive he could think of and then some. It was simply a matter of hoping his body purged the toxins quickly, and then making sure he ate better next time.

But it was nice, Ash sitting there on the couch with him. His back was warming, and Ash’s touch was steady and soothing. Augus relaxed a little. He was still balled up, but less of a tight knot of tension than before.

‘It’s because you’re so strong, isn’t it?’ Ash said. ‘I was thinking about it, ages ago. Remember you saying that waterhorses manufacture natural poison, and that the poison is like, as strong as they are? And that the poison is incompatible with other poisons? So if I go and get fucked up on vodka and some eccies, it’s not just the hangover I’m dealing with the next day, but also the fun of my poison trying to actively fight off the other poison? I’ve always wondered why you’re the fussiest eater on the planet, but there aren’t many waterhorses as powerful as you.’

‘Firstly, I know all of this,’ Augus said, voice strained over the queasiness. ‘Secondly, if you ever consider going into teaching, _don’t.’_

‘You snarky shit,’ Ash said, reaching up and fingering the ends of Augus’ hair. When he reached the raw edges of waterweed, Augus hissed at him and twitched. He almost clawed him, but then realised he’d have to move to do that, and didn’t want to move.

‘Augus,’ Ash said quietly, concern laced through it.

Augus had been hearing that name, in that voice, for so long, that sometimes it felt strange when he heard other people saying it.

‘I can’t leave you like this,’ Ash said. ‘I’m going to have to stay for a few days. I know you don’t like it, but just...trust me. I’m not leaving. You can fuck my shit up or talk about how much you hate humans or do...whatever. But I can’t. You’re miserable.’

‘I am,’ Augus said, sounding it.

‘No,’ Ash said laughing, ‘I meant, you’re a miserable bastard, and no one can stand you, but- _Hey!’_

Augus reached back and clawed him anyway.

‘At least you’re more like yourself again,’ Ash said, palming the back of his head. Augus sighed quietly, and yawned.

‘Three weeks, Augus.’

‘I made a mistake. It happens. Put it on your calendar because I won’t be doing it again anytime soon,’ Augus said, haughty. And then he turned a little, so he could look at Ash.

‘How could you think I would regret anything about how I raised you? It hasn’t been easy for you either. We made it work. I wasn’t supposed to have a brother, but the lake gave me one, and...how could you think I’d ever regret that? Because I growled at you? Let me remind you I felt twelve thousand kinds of terrible, at the time.’

‘Shut up,’ Ash said, ruffling his fingers through Augus’ hair. ‘Besides, staying for a few days will be good. I’ve got this book on the ethics of eating meat, and I think-’

‘Try it,’ Augus glared at him. ‘Just _try.’_

Ash laughed under his breath.

‘I’m sorry, brother. It’s just kind of irresistible, baiting you at the moment.’

‘The next time you’re hungover, I’m going to scrape my claws down stone, and make that sound that you love so much. And I will do it by your face. For hours. The sound doesn’t bother _me.’_

Ash rubbed warm circles into Augus’ back through the blanket, until Augus settled. Some of the queasiness eased off him, and he closed his eyes, tired.

‘You should sleep, brother,’ Ash said quietly. ‘I’ll go look for some food to replace your stocks.’

‘No, you don’t have to do that,’ Augus murmured, yawning.

‘You think I don’t fucking know that?’ Ash squeezed his shoulder. He stood up, possibly to make an early start, and Augus made a small grunt of protest. He pushed into the couch again, brow furrowing. His back felt cold where Ash wasn’t rubbing circles into it.

There was a beat, and the Ash chuckled and sat down again, placing his hand between Augus’ shoulder blades.

‘Sook,’ Ash said softly, and Augus smiled a little.

‘Who comes over when the hangovers are really bad? Who wants his favourite blanket? _’_

‘The sookiest,’ Ash said, smugly, and Augus grumped, throwing his forearm over his face. ‘You’re lucky I was here.’

Augus sighed out a breath. He was lucky that Ash checked in once a month. Without the visits, maybe he would have gone feral again, become what he was supposed to be. Ash was right, Augus was a powerful waterhorse in terms of innate, fae abilities. Ash was physically fit and strong, but Augus was blessed with an unusual array of power. Perhaps, without Ash in his life, he would have drifted back to a wilder, more predatory state a long time ago.

He didn’t want that. He liked his house, his life. He liked the way he lived.

‘I was,’ Augus said quietly. ‘I was lucky.’

‘Yeah,’ Ash said. ‘Well. We’re both lucky.’

Ash draped his arms over Augus and squeezed, and Augus patted him tiredly on the arm.

‘Glad you’re okay,’ Ash said, and Augus laughed.

‘Sook.’


End file.
